Terran Tea
by PippinB
Summary: Ficlet one shot. Old!Married Spirk Angst. What happens when Jim forgoes the morning routine? * MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH *


A/N:

This is dedicated to Kal (considering she helped with a few of the ideas), although I'm not sure it's good to gift angsty fanfiction.

There's slight gore throughout (vomiting, mainly), but there's nothing too vulgar (in my opinion) that isn't broached with care. Also don't yell at me for rating it M when there isn't hard core sex. This is angst, and after looking at the guidelines, I felt that the M category was best.

I've taken liberties in places, mainly to do with Vulcans and bonding. This hasn't been beta'd (and was finished in the early hours of the morning) so flag me up with any corrections. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>

"**Woah, look at the space in here!" A blonde exclaimed as he bounded into the room. Following him, in a much more sedate fashion, was a brunette with a sharp hair cut.**

"**It will be sufficient."**

"**Sufficient! Man, you could practically live in here!"**

**"I am not sure how practical that would be." The blonde grinned at the brunette before taking chin in hand and kissing the brunette on the lips. **

/

The office door opened with a familiar creak. Spock merely glanced from his reports that sat on his desk in piles, out of courtesy than anything else. He knew it would be Jim. It was always Jim at 8 am, sharp. With a cup of hot, black, Terran tea. Simple yet logical. It fulfilled it's purpose of both warming up Spock and providing him with rehydration.

Like clockwork, Jim would come in, place the tea precisely three inches from the edge of the desk in front of Spock, before coming around to his right and giving Spock a kiss. The kiss was the only variable. It could be anywhere on the right side of Spock's face. Spock had found that the most distracting place was on his ear, especially on his pointed helix. Jim knew this, as the human would plant warm, loving lips there three or four times a week. The kiss would then be followed by a whisper.

"Come back to bed." To which Spock would always reply,

"I do not require sleep at this time and I will not need sleep for another 14.5 hours." The soothing voice would mutter,

"Not for sleep," as delicate kisses were given down Spock's ear and onto his jawline.

Some days, Spock rejected Kirk's advance and due to having already served his part in the admiralty, Kirk understood that sometimes the needs of Starfleet outweighed the needs of his ageing libido.

However when the Vulcan accepted the advances, he would put down the screen he was reviewing and extend out his index and middle fingers. Kirk would mirror this with his own hand as Spock rose from his chair. The two would proceed to hold hands in silence as they went back to bed.

On days like this, Spock's tea always grew cold.

/

"**Fuck the paperwork." The blonde's voice cut through the air.**

"**I apologise I cannot be with you this morning, but I am currently engaged with a Starfleet issue. May I also request that you do not use such crude language."**

"**Fuck me," the exasperated voice filled the room.**

"**As desirable as that sounds," the brunette replied before looking up and giving a small cough of embarrassment, "I am currently engaged with a Starfleet issue."**

"**What's more important than me?"**

"**There is currently a sensitive manner that needs addressing-"**

"**I have a sensitive manner that needs addressing-"**

"**I do not think that is an appropriate comment to make, as I am currently in a room with several of Starfleet's admirals. " A brief pause came from the other end.**

**"I'm on loud speaker aren't I?" The brunette declined to reply.**

"**I think we need to talk about moving your office into our apartment."**

/

They were hardly young, and although their sex life wasn't as energetic as it had been in their younger years, they were definitely just as passionate. Jim would usually begin by retracing his kisses from Spock's ear, down his jaw and continue onto his neck, before reaching out his index and middle fingers. Vulcan kisses were Spock's favourite kind, because they always created a warm, pastel coloured glow between their bond. Standard Terran kisses produced a brighter, more exhilarating colour, but it was the pastel glow that Spock was fond of. At some point, they would retract their fingers from the kiss to remove their clothing, but they would always return to the kiss. Jim would use his spare hand to run through the hair that grew on Spock's chest. Once it had been matt black, but now it was speckled with grey patches. After a while the human would move so that he could stroke and massage Spock's inner thigh. Slowly he would work his fingers up into Spock's underwear and grab at the growing erection, before massaging it slowly.

/

**A grunt broke the sounds of heavy breathing.**

"**I love you," **

"**And I you." A pause.**

"**Has anyone ever told you your dick looks like one of those 20****th**** Century glow sticks? The green kind?" The brunette shot the blonde a surprised look.**

"**No, and I would ask of you to not to call it a "glow stick" again." The blonde threw his hands in the air in defence,**

"**Hey, I never said I was complaining! Just an observation." He glanced at his hand and gave a coy grin before slowly moving his fingers in and out of his mouth to taste the sticky substance that was on his fingers. **

"**You taste amazing," the brunette's mouth opened into a small "o" shape, "I want to taste you some more." and his eyes closed as the blonde trailed small kisses down his stomach onto his waiting member.**

/

Occasionally, Jim brought in the tea a later than 8am. Spock noted this was usually for sentimental reasons. On birthdays and anniversaries Jim would come with a specially cooked breakfast and his own coffee, so they could sit and eat breakfast together before planning the day ahead. Spock did not care on days like these that his tea was slightly later than usual, as he didn't usually get a chance to drink it anyway. Spock could understand his partner's celebrations when it came to anniversaries, as it signified another happy year they had spent together. What he could not comprehend was why you would celebrate a birthday, as it signified a year closer to death, and a year closer to when the two would ultimately have to say goodbye.

/

**The blonde burst through the door, carrying a wrapped box.  
>"What is that?"<strong>

"**A present, duh!" a kiss was planted on the brunette's forehead. "Happy Birthday."**

"**I deem the celebrations of birthdays illogical,"**

"**I know you do, so just think of your present as an anniversary present. You'll appreciate it more then."**

"**Our anniversary is not for another 5.2 months, and I would appreciate anything that you had gotten me."**

"**Think of it as a super early- or late- anniversary present then," the blonde placed the neatly wrapped present on the desk in front of the brunette and gestured to it, "Go on then, open it!" The brunette quirked an eyebrow up, but proceeded to unwrap the present. Once the wrapping was off of the box, he carefully lifted the lid to reveal what was inside. **

/

One day Spock woke up with dull ache in the back of his head. It was an odd pulling sensation that Spock had never felt before. However Spock had to shut out the pain, as he had a particularly important report that needed to be fact checked for Starfleet before noon that day.

The clock on his desk changed to 08:00 with no sign of Jim, but Spock was too engrossed in his work to notice.

He was in a phone call with one of the admirals when his eyes drifted to the photo frame that sat on his desk. Inside of it sat a polaroid photo, an expensive artefact on it's own, but priceless to Spock.

/

"**What. In Gods name. Is that."**

"**It's a polaroid camera! This one I think... yes, this one comes from the early 21****st**** Century. Awesome, huh!"**

"**Well what are you meant to do with it?"**

"**Take pictures." The blonde grinned in response to the southerner before grabbing the brunette that was walking past by the waist, "C'mere."  
>"What is it that you require?"<strong>

"**A picture!" The blonde looked up with big eyes and a grin, as the brunette reciprocated the gaze, but only had the corners of his mouth upturned in what seemed like a smile. A flash practically blinded the pair, but the blonde turned his head away from the brunette as the southerner exclaimed,**

"**WHAT KIND OF SORCERY IS THIS?" as a picture slide from a slot beneath the camera lens. The blonde reached out and grabbed the falling image.**

"**You just took a picture."**

/

It was probably the only photograph ever that showed Spock having any form of emotion. Every other photo showed Spock with a stoic stance and expression.

Spock inwardly smiled when he remembered the moment, and stopped once he noted the time, which sat next to the image. 08:53. His headache had become a lot worse and so after some apologies and promises to the admiral that the report would be correct and sent off by noon, he ended the call. It was then that he noticed the ache in his gut. With a shake of his head, he once again focused his mind on blocking out the pain, it was paramount the report was absolutely correct, and there were several dozen pages. Spock had only gotten through about 3 of the pages, as whoever had written it clearly hadn't taken care of the specifics.

/

"**Come to bed." The blond mumbled as he leant against the door frame. **

"**I must finish these papers before tomorrow." The brunette replied matter of factly.**

"**It's just gone midnight, it's basically tomorrow." The brunette glared at the blonde who was running a hand through his hair. "Okay, okay, chill. I know how much your work means to you. I'm just glad we managed to get your office here instead of at HQ. I don't think I'd ever see you otherwise." The blonde gave a slight smile before exiting the doorway.**

/

It was at 10:04, and Spock had gotten through about half of the pages, when his head and stomach ache pierced his mental barriers. He wondered where Jim was, as he was late by a full 124 minutes, but the thought was interrupted as Spock began to convulse, and promptly throw up at the pain that his body was emitting.

After what felt like hours later Spock found himself clutching the toilet basin, trying not to pass out an his mind wandered back to Jim. He couldn't hear his movements around their apartment, and he couldn't smell his cooking. Spock was slightly grateful for this last fact, as the smell would probably have made him vomit even more.

/

**The blonde entered the bathroom to see a mop of unruly brunette hair hung over the toilet basin. He bent down using his knees and rubbed the brunette's back. **

"**Maybe go easy on that Andorian soup next time. You know they're never good news anyway." The brunette spat into the bowl.**

"**I was being courteous."**

"**Yes well perhaps next time, don't be so courteous you get food poisoning. I hate to see you this way."**

/

Spock made a mental note, as he moved from the bathroom back into office, to call up Doctor Chapel after the paper had been finished. He would have had Doctor McCoy around, but he had now been dead for 10.3 years. Heart attack. Never the less Doctor Chapel was just as capable as McCoy, as she had trained under him. Luckily she'd picked up the knowledge, but not the bedside manner that McCoy was famous for. Spock wouldn't admit to it, but he missed the doctor just as much as his husband did.

/

"**After he died, I blamed myself. I blamed myself for the stress I caused him, by having him constantly save my ass on away missions." This comment was met with a titter of giggles, through the tears that everyone was shedding. The skeleton crew from the Enterprise was there in their formal uniform, as well as a few ensigns the greying man was sure he'd seen at some point through the years he'd captained the ship. "He was a great man. If everyone in the universe was even a quarter a man he was, the universe would be a lot better."**

"**There'd be more Bourbon for starters!" A Scot called from the congregation. The greying man gave this comment a smile, before stepping down from the podium and touching the casket that sat at the front.**

/

After a few minutes of attempting to even comprehend the meaning of a single sentence, Spock decided that although he had made promises to the admiralty of getting the report completed to the best of his ability by noon, he was in no fit state to continue. The clock read 10:32 when he left his desk for the bed he shared with Kirk.

Spock's vision started to blur as he stumbled through their apartment, collapsing straight into their bed. He curled his feet up towards his stomach, which felt as if it was being ripped out and his head felt like it was about to explode. He shut his eyes and a high pierced whining infiltrated his ears. Spock began to whimper in agony. He had never felt closer to death than he did now.

/

"**We're getting old." the greying man pulled at the wrinkles on his face. **

"**You may be getting old, but I still have a full head of hair." the brunette replied.**

"**Thanks for making me feel better,"**

"**I was merely stating a fact. I have a longer life span than you do."**

"**And don't I just know it." The greying man sighed ruefully.**

/

Knowingly the skin to skin contact with his bond mate would soothe his pain, Spock instinctively reached out for Jim. He wasn't expecting Jim to still be in bed, however the Vulcan wasn't too surprised. He had noticed Jim had been lacking his usual zest recently, and had frequently stayed in bed for a doze after their morning ritual.

When Spock's skin connected with Jim's, all the pain subsided instantaneously. His aches stopped. The piercing whine couldn't be heard and he felt completely empty and devoid of anything. It was like a large cool wave had washed over his body. His nausea however was still there, so Spock moved his so that he was cradling Jim. As he snaked his arm over his partner's cool body, he felt an unusual warmness at his crotch, yet it was only as his clenched fist unfurled against Jim's heart that Spock's eyes sprang open.

/

**It was night. The window was open, allowing the slight sounds of the night to filter in. The couple's limbs were entangled.**

"**Will you love me when I'm gone?"**

**"I am bonded to you."**

**"Will you love me when I'm gone?"**

**"I just answered the question."**

**"No you didn't," the grey haired man exasperated. "Will you love me when I'm gone?"**

"**I will always be bonded to you."**

**"You're not answering-"**

**"But, if you give me the courtesy of finishing of sentence, I will love you even when I perish." The only thing they could hear was each other's breathing.**

"**Why," the grey haired man replied, "That's most illogical." and pressed closer against the brunette, who purred softly in response.**

/

Spock recoiled instantly from the body that lay within the sheets of their bed, and, in between retches, loud, body shaking sobs came from within. Spock was surprised that he had anything left in him after his earlier bought of vomiting, but Spock felt like he could have vomited up his entire digestive system and he still wouldn't have felt better.

After his stomach was completely empty, Spock kept dry heaving. As he'd broken away from Jim's touch, the ache in his head and gut came back, alongside the high pitched whining in his ears. His head felt as if it was being pulled in opposite directions, and it throbbed more so because of the sobbing. Spock's eyes were bright green and puffy and his throat felt like a grater. His body had stopped shaking, yet tears still fell in a steady stream down his face.

/

"**He wants to talk to you." The greying man spoke softly to the brunette. They were stood in a hospital corridor.**

"**For what reason?"**

**"Beats me, but he said only you would do. You know after everything I've done for him and-"**

**"Now is not the time for anger," the brunette calmly replied. The greying man sighed deeply before slumping into a chair. "He's my best friend." **

/

Spock stumbled back into his office at 12:07. He sat in his chair, leant forward and placed both palms flat on the desk. His work communicator had several missed calls, likely from angry admirals. However it is his domestic communicator that he slowly picked up, before tapping in a string of numbers and pressing the "dial" button. He lifted the phone to his ear and heard the monotonous tone of the recorded voice.

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that had been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

"McCoy" Spock tried to splutter, but his voice was too hoarse. He hadn't spoken since the call with the admiral, which was hours ago, and since then he'd thrown up twice and had been sobbing. Spock cleared his voice and tried again. "McCoy," better, but not right. "Leonard," Spock bit his lip, he'd been dreading this phone call. "Leonard, it's Jim. Jim's dead."

/

"**Listen here Spock," Bones beckoned the Vulcan closer with a gesture of his finger. "We both know Jim'll die before you. So do a dying man a favour. Tell me when he goes. I'll need to prepare the dead for Jim's god damn antics."**

/

* * *

><p>AN: I'll clarify the last two flashbacks were pre Bones' death, and so although they're a little out of order (the rest of the flashbacks are consecutive), I felt like it worked.

I'd love it if you left a comment, but if it's criticism, please can it be constructive.


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